‘Look, I know your mate said the fire was deliberate, but we don’t know that for sure. Nothing official has been said yet. Why don’t we wait? We don’t want to make things worse with Charlie, do we? Promise me, Alf, you won’t go and see him until I come back. Please, I can’t cope with any more stress right now and an all-out war with Charlie is something neither of us need.’

There was a pause before Alfie said, ‘Okay, if that’s what you want.’

‘I do, and not only that, but it’s the right thing … I’ll see you later.’

Franny put down the phone, but immediately it rang again. ‘Hi, did you forget something?’ There was no answer. ‘Hello, Alf? Alf?’ She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen. Rather than it being Alfie as she first thought, the number had come up as private. She spoke again, though much more tentatively. ‘Hello?’ Again, there was nothing and trying not to feel alarmed, Franny clicked off the phone, frowning and staring at it once more before quickly pushing it down into her jeans pocket.

Bringing her focus back to Bree, Franny, feeling a pain in her neck from the stress, began to roll Bree up in the sheet but the rigor mortis caused Bree’s body to take on a strange and awkward shape; her legs were still angled and bent back from her fall. They were locked in position, making it impossible for Franny to straighten them out.

Unable to get Bree in the sheet as she was, Franny, chewing nervously on her lip, closed her eyes, steadying herself, then tried to think of nothing at all. With all her strength, she grabbed hold of one of Bree’s legs, forcing it straight, forcing it down, listening to the sound of Bree’s limbs cracking and breaking as she straightened her up.

Taking hold of the other leg, Franny again pushed down with all her weight on Bree’s hip. She heard a pop as it dislocated out of its socket. A wave of nausea ran through her, sweet saliva rushing into her mouth. She slammed her lips shut, swallowing down her vomit, and with hands shaking she began to wrap Bree’s now broken-boned body tightly up in the sheet, gaffer-taping it closed.

Wanting to finish the job as soon as she could, Franny stood up and ran outside, opening the boot of her car before wedging the front door partly open.

She checked up and down the street, and seeing it was deserted, she quickly rushed back into the flat and scooped up Bree’s body, then after the count of three, Franny ran to her car, throwing Bree into the boot and slamming it closed.

She breathed out, bending over, resting her hands on her knees. Emotions washing over her as her whole body shook.